


Restoring the Balance

by rejectbaboon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: After Season/Series 02, And disgusting, BAMF Stiles, Blood and Gore, Character Bashing, Derek is Stiles' Anchor, Derek is a Good Alpha, Don't eat while reading, F/M, M/M, Mentiones of Incest, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Slash, Really Violent guys, Soon :D, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rejectbaboon/pseuds/rejectbaboon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of the Kanima, Stiles has a falling out with Scott, while gaining an unexpected friendship with Derek and an even more unexpected path he must follow. It's his duty to make everything right again and to restore the balance that's been shaken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay guys. I wote this all night, I didn't sleep because I just couldn't give up the idea. I'm kind of new at writing in 1st P.O.V but I don't think I did that bad of a job, give me your opinions. 
> 
> PLEASE, read the tags. This gets really violent, gore-y and also, there is a mention of incest (not between Derek and his family or the pack, or Stiles and the Sheriff).
> 
> There's some Polish because I wanted the Stilinskis to speak Polish, and it's totally from Google Translate so, if you're Polish or know the language, feel free to correct me. Also know that English isn't my mother tongue and that I'm going to have mistakes. You can correct me for those as well.
> 
> I embrace criticism, but please not for reasons such as why do I treat some characters like I do. It's my choice if I want to bash some of them, and all the bashing will be short and they will be alright in the end. The story ends happily for everyone. :D Have patience.
> 
> Uhm, I also didn't include all the tags I should have because it would mean spoilers. I'll put them later. Enjoy and let me know what you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the Polish in this chapter has been fixed, thanks to AdraLamia, who is awesome! Thank you for your help!!!!

The, 18th of September, my 18th birthday. I open my eyes after a deep, satisfying sleep and gaze at the cracked ceiling as my heart starts to double its rhythm. It has finally come, the day I've been waiting for almost two years. It seems like such a long time ago, since I first found out about the reality of our world. Since that shocking wake, I've realized that we are living an illusion. I'm grateful for knowing the truths of our world, despite it having come with some grave costs, which I'm not going to linger on today.

Because today, today is going to change history, and I will play the role of the author, a role I have taken upon myself almost two years ago, a few months after my awakening. Throwing the covers off, I jump lithely out of bed, walking towards the bathroom where I stop to look into the mirror. My hair has grown from its former buzzcut, it now stands up in each direction and I don't bother trying to tame it. My eyes are clear, no signs of tiredness under them, and I'm thankful my meditation session last night got rid of any remaining tension from the previous activities of the last month, or maybe year, really. I take a step back. My body has filled out since my Wake. It seems like the crazy and gruelling hours of training I have been subjected to have finally paid off. My constitution will never allow me to buff up like certain broody or crooked-jawed werewolves, but my arms, pecs and abs are nicely shaped and toned. 

It seems like the tincture Deaton has made for me yesterday has worked its magic, because the tattoo over my sternum is completely healed, looking months, rather than a day old. Taking one last look in the mirror, I step into the shower. 

After I've cleaned yesterday's final training session with Morell off of my body, I hurry back to my room to get dressed. Today I'm finally discarding my mask. No more oversized plaid to hide under, I'm going to show who I really am, who I've become; and I know that it's going to come as a big shock. I am not exactly in everyone's good graces lately. I'm not sure I've ever really been, whether from serious or childish reasons. To everyone's great shock I have become really good friends with Beacon Hill's resident broody alpha after Jakson's de-kanimation. It wasn't easy. Scott's betrayal had had an impact on everyone, but not to the extent it did on Derek and myself. I'm not a stubborn idiot, I let Scott say his piece, and I can understand to a certain point where he had been coming from at the time. The desperation to save your parent can push you to drastic measures. But for me it didn't change the fact that not only did he rape someone, because in my book rape can take more forms than simply being limited to unwanted, brutal sexual intercourse, but that it also was a deeply flawed plan. Gerard, the old bastard, had been a cunning hunter and if he'd been only slightly less sick, he'd have scented Scott's and Deaton's plan a mile away. I shudder to think, even now, what would have happened had he not taken the mountain ash pills and becoming an alpha. The consequences would have been disastruous, not only for anyone in Beacon Hills but for every innocent werewolf family out there that Gerard would have put his sight on.

I also felt for Derek, because I am the only one who actually knows the truth about how Kate Argent got to the Hales. The poor bastard had been raped once again. It had been so hard to gain his trust and convince him that I wasn't in on Scott's plan. But I 'wooed' him and slowly, through much time spent in each other's presence at his newly acquired loft or late night territory patrols, we got to know each other and call each other friends. Maybe even best friends. Our new friendship had come as a shock to everyone, from Isaac and Scott's jealousy, to Jackson's and Lydia's resentment, to the newly returned Erica and Boyd. Erica and Boyd don't really hate me, mostly, I think, because of our capture and subsequent torture at the hands of Gerard in the Argent's BDSM basement and, also, maybe Erica's former crush on me. They seem to be more envious of my easy acceptance of the reality of the supernatural because altough they have chosen to become werewolves, they didn't really pay attention to Derek's warnings before taking the bite and thus didn't expect everything to get so tough. I'm glad they escaped, with Braedan and Morell's help from the Alpha pack, but since then they struggled with accepting not only who they are now and living with the knowledge that things can go pear-shaped with each arrival of the new weekly-monster in Beacon Hills, but also with their place in the pack which is lower on the totem pole than Jackson's and Lydia's. I don't have fingers to count how many fights have there been between Erica and Lydia.

Isaac and Scott are plain jealous, to Derek's, and mine, to a certain point, amusement. Mine and Scott's friendship has been altered with each new time he'd abandoned me in times of danger for dates with Allison, combined with his betrayal with Gerard. I'm not really sure if we're ever going re-kindle our 'best friends' status, altough we both did try to maintain our friendship. Derek is my new best friend now, he is the person that understand me better than most, better than myself and better than even my father. And it's the same for me, I feel like I can read him in a second. Sometimes I entertain the thought that I can feel if something's bothering him even when I'm not in his presence. Sometimes I feel melancholy, thinking about the older days of mine and Scott's friendship, but sometimes, once distance enters between two persons, it grows too fast and it's too difficult and too late to erase it. 

I am glad, however, that he's found a good friend in Isaac. Despite his continued stubborness in denying to accept being in Derek's pack, Scott spends a lot of his time with Derek's beta, Isaac, and he gets invited to all pack nights and trainings because of him. Derek has many times expressed his frustration at this, but I convinced him to let it go and wait for Scott to come to his senses. He also can't refuse Isaac because he's secretly a gooey marshmallow inside and because Isaac doesn't play fair and is prone to huge temper tantrums like the infant of the pack he truly is, or wet puppy dog eyes that shatter Derek's resolve into a thousand little pieces. Despite the fact that he has Scott and that he's clearly pampered by Derek, Isaac has almost an unatural hatred for me. I figure it's because of my close relationship with Derek. I'm Derek's second in command - and much more than that, as they will soon find out - my opinion has more weight for the alpha than anyone else's, and my opinion sometimes goes against that of Isaac's. Isaac's 'daddy issues' as Derek told me Peter amusingly put it once, play a huge part because as I mentioned earlier, he's the youngest in the pack and that, combined with his obvious view of Derek as a parental figure, no matter how much of an arrogant and indifferent front he puts, makes him see me as more important than him to Derek. No effort from Derek's part has managed to convince him otherwise. Lastly, he hates me because of my former position in Scott's life and the latter's jealousy over Derek and mine's friendship; I don't know if anyone else has noticed his crush on Scott. It must be terribly frustrating to Isaac that not only is Scott obviously suffering and longing for our friendship - making him feel like his isn't enough - but also because he thinks I'm the reason he and Scott can't get close enough so that he can maybe make the next step in their relationship.

Finally, Jackson and Lydia share some of Isaac's view, mainly my position in the pack hierarchy, which is higher than theirs. In fact, they're only above Erica and Boyd, having upgraded only after the other two's return, before that being at the bottom of the barell. Above them is Peter - who is an interesting case - and then Isaac and me. As I said before, Scott has no place other than Isaac's tag along, since he refuses to submit to Derek. 

This grates on Jackson and Lydia because of them being accustomed to the position of top dogs in high school and society. It's no secret to everyone that they're the wealthiest families in Beacon Hills, but what is kept secret, even to them, is that Derek's in fact even wealthier. He'd confided that to me when we talked on one of our nightly patrols about his education in New York, as I'd been surprised, to my shame, that he went to college. He told me that his education and now the loft are the only things he'd spent the money from his inherited insurance on. He also told me of his great-great grandfather Eustache Hale who had basically founded Beacon Hills. Peter had happened upon us as we were sitting on a big boulder by the river which surrounds the Hale house from the east, and he sad down on a fallen tree trunk and had taken over from Derek, telling us more about the history of the Hale family and the important status they once played in Beacon Hills.

Peter's interesting. It's true that I once loathed him, for what he put me, Scott, my dad and Beacon Hills through at the start of all this. But at the same time, I can't help but be fascinated by his resiliance. He's a true enigma. From what Derek has told me about him, Peter has always toed the line between white and black, he's always had a dubious morality and he's always been manipulative. But despite his traits, he'd always truly cared about his family, especially after Sara gave birth to his son. Knowing what Derek's told me about their lives before the fire, as well as what Peter himself has told me on many of our tea meetings, I know now that I can't really condemn him for what he's done. Having your whole family, your soul mate and your three months old son die cruelly in a fire while you could only watch, helpless, before your animal instinct pushed you to abandon and run for your own survival is..well, I just can't blame him. Furthermore, in my eyes, his only faults are having killed Laura, bitten Scott and attacked and pshychically tortured Lydia. Now, neither of those things are light, and I especially found it hard and still do, sometimes, to get over him having killed his own niece, and him attacking and torturing an innocent high school girl. Scott's suffering at his hands isn't deserved either, but Scott benefited in the end, no matter what he says. I know, because I once heard Melissa crying in the a waiting chair in front of a hospital room as a doctor told her that Scott's chances of survival to entering college are low if he doesn't stop being a child; Scott's little lungs couldn't take the child's boundless energy as he played and tried to run everywhere. Despite everything, Peter did Scott a favour. But Lydia was innocent, and Laura too. Sometimes I wish I still hated him for them, but how can I, when the man was obviously insane. Peter had admitted to me and Derek that he, in fact, has no recollection of killing Laura and that after he killed her, he'd felt trapped in his own mind. He had remained in a coma all the while, his conscience being trapped while his feelings ruled his brain with the iron fist of revenge, controlling his actions. Now, when I think about it, I'm thankful that he didn't cause even more destruction than he did. He slipped with Lydia and with the janitor that night at the high school, but otherwise he only killed those responsible for the fire. In the end, it had been good, obviously, that he'd been put down, a fact that even he has admitted, because by then he was truly gone and he would have started killing aimlessly anyway. The reason I find him interesting and deserving of being in the pack, is that the saner Peter 'died' during the fire, only to wake up as a tortured soul, trapped in his body for years on end in a comma, abandoned and with the knowledge of the death of his family and the absence of his mate bond, with only an insane nurse in the knowledge of the supernatural to help him, a fact which only increased his own mental instability. He came back to life slowly and managed to kill an alpha, despite being not even stronger than an omega at the time. He then died again, and managed to come back to life, this time with some of his former conscience back. Peter will never be 'good', but then again, I'm the kind of person who realizes that there is no good or evil in life, but only what is and what isn't, as Kilgharrah put it.

Peter had managed to gain a mild forgiveness - or more like acceptance - from Derek. Their relationship will never be what it once was, and in fact, it has never been that great in the first place, due to Peter's manipulative personality, but Derek has also greatly changed and he has become tired of holding on to the hate. All they have of their former family is each other. Derek's sessions with Morell have, probably, paid a big part in this as well.

Scott and the others are never going to accept my, and Derek's point of view, but to be honest, they don't really have the same experience at life that I and Derek have. They never lost a parent, or their whole family. A parent moving away is different from a parent dying. You can't come back from that.

 

I know I'm not the best of persons, I know I can be selfish and sometimes I don't really care about other people than those closest to me. I've never had many friends, I've just never clicked with people. My erratic and prone to obsession personality, as well as my biting sarcasm and ADHD that I just can't curbe don't sit well with people. Throughout my life I've only had two true friends, one  which I don't even remember that well because we lost contact when I was ten, and the other being Scott, who I met a year and a half later. Everyone else, apart from my dad and my mom, I never really cared about. So I can say with little remorse that I don't really care about Isaac's and everyone elses feelings about me or mine and Derek's friendship. Sometimes I'm sick enough to acknowledge that I get a small sense of satisfaction out of it.

I walk over and get my car keys while pocketing my phone. I'll text everyone else after I arrive at Deaton's to make the final preparations. Today is monumental.

 

                                                                                                                                    

 

"Stiles, I trust you have prepared yourself" Deaton greets me as he gets out of the car, having both arrived at the animal clinic at the same time. I follow him inside as he unlocks the door. Beth, the blind german shepherd that Scott found abandoned on the side of the road whines as she hears us.

"Yes, last night I meditated for three hours before going to sleep. I'm ready. Is everything else prepared?"

We walk into his office where not even Scott has access. I'm greated with the usual smell of ancient tomes, herbs such as thyme, vervain and spearmint, as well as rosemary and many others. Various stones glitter in the weak light Deaton has installed, in order not to damage his old books. The office is cool, the temperature controlled. I've spent many hours here, uncomfortable at first, before growing more used and comfortable with the ambience.

"Yes." Deaton, as usual, is short and to the point. While his secretive, taciturn personality has driven crazy in the past, today it's welcome. I want to keep my mind clear. His calm is helping.

We have talked over everything at least a thousand times, from my Awakening to yesterday. The job which would have been my mother's had fallen to Deaton, and despite knowing that my mother would have done a better job, I can't help but admit that Deaton's been decent enough. Where he'd fallen short, Morell stepped in, and even Breaden helped sometimes. I trust Deaton professionally, and only when it comes to me, because I know it's his sacred duty to help me. The same can be said for Morell as well, altough I've had less contact with her. I know she's involved with the Alpha Pack, which doesn't sit well with me, despite knowing that her involvment helps somewhat, in keeping them at bay. Now, Braeden, I don't really trust. Firstly, because she's a mercenary, and she's helped training me only because she owes Deaton something, and I know she isn't truly bad. But the fact remains that she's a mercenary. There's also that other fact, where she keeps sniffing around Derek. I caught her talking and laughing with Derek a few times while I was on errands in town, and I've always felt weird about it. It's not that I begrudge Derek having other friends or a relationship. But I can't help but worry, knowing his dating history, that she's going to be another person who breaks his trust and heart, if to ever went that far. I always felt weird about her being in Derek's presence. I'm not sure if Derek has noticed my feelings about it and if he did, he never told me anything. I never told him anything about my worries as well, because despite being close friends, I don't want to seem controlling and it's not really my place. But this certainly helped me in getting even more motivated in our training sessions. 

Deaton takes the vial filled with my blood out of the fridge, checking it's cork and putting it in the brown leather bag with the other requirments. 

"Perhaps you should call the others?" 

I sigh as I nod, taking my phone out of my pocket. I stare at my screen for a few moments, watching an image of me, Derek and my dad, taking lunch at Harry's . A smile grows on my face, one resembling the ones from the picture, as I remember forcing them to take out first selfie together. Pursing my lips, I form Derek's number from my memory and hover my finger over the Call button.

I gaze at Deaton who is standing calmly, with his arms clasped behind his back. 

"I should call Derek first." 

His lips twitch in his small-not-quite smile and I take it as the usual sign of approval it is.

My heart nearly bursts out of my chest as I wait for Derek's voice.

"Stiles."

"Now, what have we talked about intonation, Der?"  my voice is teasing but I know he can hear my pulse where my ear is pressed to the phone. I can feel his curiosity but no alarm, since he can sense I'm not in any danger, apart from giving myself a heart attack.

"Stiles."

"Look, I need you to call a pack meeting. There's something we need to discuss." 

He stays silent for a few beats, before sighing. "Fine. Mind telling me why, first?"

"I'll tell you when we go on a walk, before the pack arrives."

He sighes again and I can almost see his pursed lips and the small shake of his head. I can't help but smile.

"At what time should I tell them to come?" 

"In an hour. I'm going to be there in ten minutes. Be sure to tell Isaac to bring Scott as well. Peter should be there too." As I speak, Deaton closes zippes the brown leather bag shut and takes two small urns from a shelf, setting them side by side on the table, near the bag. 

Suddenly I remembered one important detail.

"Uhm, Derek, you should tell everyone to drive to your house." He knows I'm not reffering to the loft. He stays silent for a few long moments before letting out a big exhale. I think he knows that this is very important. Not even Derek knows about this. He, along with my dad, are probably the two persons I've wanted to tell the most during all of this, especially when I felt like I couldn't do it, like I couldn't complete the training. But I'm not allowed to tell anyone anything from my Awakening until I complete my task. If I complete it. Which I have no doubt I'm going to. 

"Okay. Drive safe." says Derek. 

"I'll be there soon. Be safe."

Without another word, Deaton takes the urns and hikes the bag on his shoulder and we're on our way, him to the Hale house to wait for the rest of us, and I to Derek's loft. Before I take off, I dial my dad's number.

 

When I arrive at the loft, Derek's waiting for me, leaning on the Camaro. I shake my head at his impatience and get out of my jeep, crossing the parking lot before hugging the alpha. He hugs me back for a few, body not quite tense for battle, but with curiosity.

"Heey." I whisper in the crook of his neck. His scent is soothing, as always. He smells like the forest at night, well after midnight when the air is fresh and cool and every breath calms your mind and revigorates you no matter how tired you are.

"Hey." We pull back and he raises an eyebrow.

"Is this where you finally tell me what you've been doing for the past year and a half?"  I smile and nodd.

"Yeah, definitely." 

He raises his eyebrows in his usual 'well, go on' way.

"We've never talked about this, and first I want to thank you for never pushing. I would've loved nothing but to tell you from the start, ever since I submitted to you, but I wasn't allowed. " I can see his curiosity increasing with each word I'm saying, and he nods as he waits for me to continue. He's still leaning on the Camaro, arms uncrossed but at his side on the sides of the car, and I'm staying quite close to him, almost in between his legs, which he spread out to accommodate me when we hugged.

"Everything I did in my free time until now, has been to prepare for today. I'm still not allowed to tell you what's going to happen, because what will happen requires your trust. I know you trust me, but I need you to trust me even more. I don't know what else to tell you, except this." 

My heart pulses in my chest as I watch him, and I feel the old need to chew on something, but I refrain, settling on biting my lip as I watch Derek frown. I'm not afraid. I know Derek trusts me, but I can't help my nervousness. This is crucial. 

"Stiles, calm down. Your heart's going crazy." He looks pointedly at my chest before he looks at my face, concearned. "I trust you." 

Everytime I hear him say this, I feel strange. Elated, because I remember that time in the pool when we were fighting the Kanima, when he didn't trust me, and to be honest, neither did I, really. How far we've come.

I sudenly surge forward, startling him a bit, I can tell from the widening of his eyes, as I cupp his cheeks in my palms, almost leaning on him entirely. It's weird even for us, because while we're quite used with touching each other when hugging or cuddling during pack meetings - only Derek and I cuddle, and sometimes Erica and Boyd. Jackson and Lydia are more inclined to make out before somehow they descend into bickering or all out fights, which usually tend to escalate to Lydia and Erica fighting due to some retort from Erica and yeah..-  while we're used to each other, this is strange even for us.

Derek cups my wrists but makes no move to remove my hands or my presence. 

"I really need you to trust me, okay? More than you ever did." His eyes are still big as he looks back into mine. I try to show how serious I mean it with my eyes.

"More than you ever trusted anyone else, do you understand?" I'm whispering now, still waiting for his answer. For his real answer. I want to see it in his eyes. 

Finally it happens, his pupils widen and it's almost like the various colours in his eyes swirl together for a few seconds while he nods.

I want to say more, explain more about what I'm doing, but I'll tell more at the Hale house. What I needed was to feel Derek's entire being readying itself for me. This was the most important part. Without it, today would have been nothing.

I step back and grab go round his car, to take the passanger seat. There's no point in us driving separate cars, especially since I'm not going to drive at the end of the day.

 

When we arrive, the rest of the pack is there, as well as Scott and my dad. Deaton is waiting somewhere to the left, silent, hands clasped behind his back once again and the two urns and the bag at his feet, on the extremely wide patch of earth he cleaned in preparation for me. My dad is leaning on his cruiser, one hand crossed over his chest while the other props his chin up, as he watches me and Derek exit the Camaro. He, too, know that today he's going to have some answers for my shifty behaviour as of late.The rest of the pack are waiting in tense silence, some like Erica and Boyd sitting on the house's front porch, others standing stiff and looking around and at the others with disgust - Jackson and Lydia - and others more scowling or perplexed, sitting on a patch of overgrown grass near the cruiser - Isaac and Scott. Peter is a few ways away from everyone, leaning on a tree and watching the ruins of the house wistfully.

"The hell is going on? Why are we sitting in front of this decayed dump?" Two low growls echoed in the clearing as Derek and Peter glared at the stupid boy. But what can you expect from Jackson.

"Jackson, be more respecful." You gotta love my dad. Derek thanks him with a look, saving him for having to acknowledge Jackson. We stop in the center of the cleaing, in front view of everyone.

"Stiles asked me to call this pack meeting today. He has something very important to tell us. I will hear no protests or insults from you; you will be silent from now on until Stiles and myself deem that you can talk. You are not allowed to leave, no matter what. If you decide to leave, you leave the pack but only after today's pack meeting has finished. Am I understood?"  My opinion of Derek asa shitty alpha was long gone by the time I submitted to him, and since then I can't help but admire the constant progress he's made and is still making. The problem isn't with Derek anymore, but it's with the pack. Not much of a pack, but Derek's a formidable alpha now. His mother must be proud, I know I and my dad are. I can see my dad's respect in his eyes where he's leaning still on the cruiser. Deaton is impassive.

The others are furious, except maybe for Erica and Boyd who seem bored and not really caring. Isaac is scowling furiously and keeps opening his mouth but Scott jabs him with an elbow. Jackson seems to be vibrating as well, arm around Lydia as the redhead is glaring at Derek with pursed lips. nobody says anything, and Derek nods and turns towards me, rasing his eyebrows, a question in his eyes. I nod toward my dad and he nods back, we don't have to talk for him to understand me. He silently goes and leans on the cruiser next to my dad, who makes space for him. Peter leans on a closer tree.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes before opening and taking a few steps back, since now they are all of them in front of me. 

"Some of you may have noticed that for the past years and so, almost two years, I've been more busy than usual. I haven't had the time to go out too much, you probably haven't seen me around town like usual. I can explain now why. During the Kanima, at the beginning of last year, Deaton gave me a fistful of mountain ash and told me to believe that I'm going to trap the Kanima inside the club. I did. It was my Awakening." I stop there and take a deep breath as I survey the others.

Despite trying to appear bored, they are all curious though some don't know what I'm talking about. My dad, Derek and Peter are focusing on me very intensely. I can see Peter almost trembling with excitement, which is quite weird.

"I'm what is called a Spark. It comes from my mother's side of the family. My mother was one too. Sparks are very rare, there are only a few in America, and another handful in Europe and Asia. We are magic. Our purpose is to maintain the natural balance of the world, especially balancing the natural and supernatural. We have very rigid sets of rules which we must follow. Once we Awaken, we need to complete our training in a certain period of time, before we go out of control and cause quite a bit of destruction. Since the power is hereditary, it falls to the parent from whom you received the gift to train you. Since my mother is dead, Deaton - who is the closest spark - had fallen into the role of my mentor, as by our rules. At the end of a training, a Spark needs to complete a task. Let's call it more of a ...quest, if you want. This is very important. The quest must be chosen carefully and with much consideration because it's your life's work. Contrary to everything else, a Spark does the most important thing he or she will ever do, at the beginning of their journey. Another important thing, a Spark is the most stable when in a pack. Deaton can tell you more about this."  I cleared my throat as I gestured towards Deaton who stepped forward. Everyone's eyes were filled with shock and anticipation. Derek's eyes were of an intensity which I found hard to bear. They looked into my soul. 

"In the past, Sparks were not as rare as they are today." Begins Deaton. "Almost every pack had a Spark, who usually fell in the role of second in command or the role of Emissary. Their importance was, and still is, crucial. Sparks balance a pack of werewolves, they help with the control and safety of the pack, and they share a very strong bond with the Alpha." My eyes move to Derek once again. He' staring steadily at me, instead of Deaton. My heart skipps a beat for some reason.

"Not only this, but they are the liaison between the pack and humans and hunters, the Emissary, as I mentioned earlier. In fact, they are the link between the supernatural and natural world, as you call it, through which every being communicates and resolves disputes with each other. They must balance the two worlds." Deaton stepped back and I took a deep breath to start again.

"As with most things, there are different Sparks. Some have more of an inclination towards the whiter side of the arts, while others towards the grey or darker side. My mother was killed by a Dark Spark." I state flatly, avoiding everyone's eyes and especially my dad's. Even from where I'm standing, I can hear the hitch on his breath.

"It seemed like a normal human ilness, becuse a Spark has the power to make it look like that.  When a Spark dies before his/hers time, the natural order of things is thrown out of balance, and destruction follows. They are the protectors and the mediators. My mom died two months before the Hale fire." 

Silence echoes in the clearing. Nobody dares to even breath, and I don't dare to take my eyes from the tiny rock a few meters in front of me.

"The destruction left behind can not be rectified by no one and nothing apart from a direct descendand of the Spark who protected the lands and kept the balance. That's me. Today is my coming of age, and the day I must accomplish my task. For me, it is my duty to restore the balance. I must kill the Dark Spark."

The pack are all bewildered, looking at me with incredulous expressions on their faces, and I would smile if I wasn't so thightly wound. My dad is breathing heavily and sputtering and Derek is glaring at a spot on the ground and then at me. I can desciphre a myriad of emotions on his face, shock, awe, confusion, anger, admiration, fear, concern, affection, horror; Peter is silent and watching me intently. His eyes are weird and I look back towards my dad and I startle when I see him in front of me.

His hands grab my black, form fitted henley and he shakes me slightly.

" **Ani mi się waż to zrobić, Anastazy Stilinski!!!!**!" _[ Don't you dare to this, Anastazy Stilinski ]_

Great, now they all know my name. I shake my head as his bellow echoes in the clearing. I take his hands and push them away, squeezing them.

" **Muszę to zrobić. To mój obowiązek, a jeśli tego nie zrobię, eksploduję i zniszcze połowę miasta. Tego chcesz?** " _[I can't. It's my duty, and if I don't do this, I will explode and destroy half the town. Is that what you want?]_

I know it's a low blow but it's the truth nonetheless. I could have worded it better, but now was not the time for mollycoddling. Later I would explain. Now I have to begin. 

I can feel the others' frustration at the scene in front of them. Not many know that we can actually speak Polish. Maybe not that well anymore, but still. Only Scott, Derek and Peter know. 

" **Nie chcę i ciebie stracić. Nie ciebie, proszę synu..** " _[I don't want to lose you. Not you too, please son.]_

My heart breaks in my chest and I pull my dad in a tight hug. He's trembling, and there's a lump in my throat. I don't know what to say for him to believe me that I  _will_ succeed in my task. It's much too important for me to lose. I care too much about what happens or, more importantly, what doesn't, if I were to lose today.

" **Muszę to zrobić, zaufaj mi, wygram..** " _[Trust me. I have to, and I will win.]_

With a final squeeze, I let him go and give him a little push back towards the cruiser where Derek is waiting with tight fists that keep clenching and unclenching. My dad is reluctant to go and I nod at Derek. He glares at me before giving a curt nod and taking a few steps forward to touch my father's shoulder and steer him back. My dad goes, never taking his eyes off of me, and I ignore his tears. I need to keep calm. 

Deaton bends down and starts taking out the contents of the brown leather bag, arranging them neatly for me. He also takes the lids of the two urns and then he walks farther away, arms clasped behind his back in his usual pose. My heart is galloping and I'm trying to keep my trembling to a minimum. I'm not afraid of anything, except of failing. Ha, I can barely stop a hysterical giggle from going past my lips. 

Before stepping on the clean, round patch of earth, I look back towards the others.

"No matter what happens, NO MATTER WHAT," I emphasize, "you aren't allowed to come close. You won't be able to enter these two circles anyway." I mentioned, getsuring to the circle of clear ground I was on, with the urns and other stuff at my feet and the one farther away next to which Deaton is standing. That one is big as well. I'm in luck that the clearing before the Hale house is quite big.

I turn my head and look directly at Derek and Peter. 

"Derek, don't move from where you are. Not until it's over. Do you understand?" My tone is probably more serious than ever. I glare at him with an intensity I hope he won't deny.  He's glaring back, body tight with tension, jaw locked and pulsing as he grinds his teeth together. He gives another curt nod. I know that of I succeed, I will receive quite the tongue lashing from my best friend and alpha, but for now it's important that he understands.

"If you do, my concentration will break. You don't want that." It wasn't a threat. Just the truth. "The Dark Spark has no power outside the barrier of this circle, but that's only as long as I keep my concentration. I don't want any of you to call my name or distract me. I don't want any of you to call  **anyone's** name until I say so. I don't want anyone to move. Derek you said you trust me, I want you to keep your promise." I know I'm probably very annoying right now, especially by the frustrated scoffs from the pack, but it doesn't matter.

Derek takes a deep breath and leans back on the Camaro, despite there being no release of tension in his body.

"I trust you. I swear on my wolf spirit that I will keep silent and that no one will move a foot until this is over." His voice is low and controlled, his eyes intense and  _trusting_  , despite what I'm asking of him.  I smile, nodding, before I take a deep breath, one last look around the clearing and at my dad before I take my henley off.

 

                                                                                                                                     

 

I position myself in the middle of the circle, so that I'm facing the others. It doesn't really matter anyway, but there's no point in hiding. The ritual is simple. I don't need many ingredients since power comes mostly from inside me. I am the source, and I have my anchor tattoed on my chest. I take a fistfull of the tiny sack of dried, grinded herbs such as lilac, to drive away evil and for protection, thyme, to give strength, courage and good luck, St John's Wort, and Vervain, a herb that is always used in magical rituals. The herbs are only to enhance my powers, they are mostly a tradition. But they are indeed useful, anyway. It's all about belief.

I throw the fistful of herbs in the air and they settle instantly on the borders of the wide circle which is to be my battle ground. On the other side of the clearing, Deaton is doing the same. 

Next, I take a a fistful of salt form another little bag, this one is well known to trap demons and other malevolent spirits. I thow it in the air again, and again it settles on the borders, but this time on the exterior of the herbs barrier. 

Finally, I take a last fistful of mountain ash, combined with wolfsbane, throwing it in the air before it settles on the outer border of the circle, as the last, and the most powerful, protection.

I don't need to glance at Deaton to know he has finished casting the protection barriers as well. My next move is to take the white urn and get up. Ignoring everyone, I walk across the clearing towards Deaton, who has stepped outside the circle, and enter it. I pour eight piles of the contents of the urn. Taking my ritual knife out of my back pocket, I make a small incision on the side of my arm and pour my blood on every pile. I then grip my hair at the back and take cut a thick strand with the knife. I put a few strands on each pile, before turning back and going to the other circle.

It's eerie. It's the middle of the day but already there's a heaviness in the air. One absent glance tells me the pack are all sitting down, leaning eagerly forward. Derek and the Sheriff seem to be comically almost leaning on each other, both of them glaring, both tense and filled with concern. Peter seems fascinated and almost impatient for me to get on with it. I can feel them all. I can also feel something else. 

Taking the black urn this time, I move farther apart from the circle, towards the back and I start digging a small hole with my knife, before reaching inside the urn for the bone. There are gasps as people realise it's a human bone, without doubt. I shove it inside, before taking the vial full of my blood which is infused with Vervain and moutain ash. I pour it in the hole over the bone, before carefully reaching inside the urn and grasping a strand of hair which is obviously not mine, seeing as it's long. 

The air is heavy and charged with electricity, and everything is still as I whisper.

         

**_Chi, oh Un TYwyll, sy'n trigo yn y arian y nos, datgelu eich cysgod i fy ngolwg._ **

**_O esgyrn a lludw, gwaed a gwallt, ewyllys fy gwys ac yn cadw chi yma._ **

**_Mae frwydr at y farwolaeth i gywiro, fel y mae'r arfer a rheolau ein caredig._ **

 

_[You, oh Dark One, who dwells in the Silver of night,_

_uncloak your shadow to my sight._

_From bones and ashes, blood and hair,_

_my will summons and keeps you here._

_A fight to the death to rectify,_

_as is the custom and rules of our kind.]_

 

The stillnes in the air explodes and the hole in front of me expands. It surreal, the sun shining heavily in this autumn day, while a pale, clawed hand grips the edge of the now really large hole. I never move my eyes from it. I hear sounds in the back, there's a rustling around the clearing but the pack is dead silent, I can feel their fear permeating the air, as well as the ever increasing sweet and unbearable scent of death. It's cloying in my nostrils.

Suddenly a blond head bursts out almost playfully, as if playing peak-a-boo with me. It's sickening, truly, The smile on its face, malicious and playful as it jumps out of the ground, tattered clothes swaying with the movement and hanging of on the gaunt frame of this monster. For it has never been anything but a monster, even when it lived. There are gasps and cries of dismay as it suddenly turns its head all the way back with a disgusting creak of bones and a horrifying display of loose, torn and decaying flesh. I look at Derek, and his face is pasty white and he's swaying on his feet, my dad's white grip on his hand probably the only thing keeping him standing. Peter isn't much better, and neither is everyone else.

The thing shrills an ugly laugh.

"Well, well, well. The little match has finally been lit, ha!!!!!" Her head rolls back around to smile at me, and I keep my eyes on hers, resisting the temptation to look at the torn patch of skin where Peter's claws pierced her two years ago. 

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy my clever pun!" 

My face is blank.

"No, but I do enjoy the fact that you finally look like the monster you've always been." I feel a deep satisfaction as her milky eyes narrow in a glare. It seems her amusement has faded. Her clawed hands twitch and I take a step to the right as we begin circling each other.

"Not as much as I enjoyed killing your poor excuse of a mother, I bet." My face doesn't twitch, and I don't allow myself to be baited, even tough I can hear the shocked gasps of the others. I can tell they've finally understood. Kate Argent had been a Spark. A rarity since her family had been hunters almost from their beginning. Hunters don't usually become anything supernatural. This is why hunters don't usually become sparks. 

"You're an abomination. You shouldn't have even existed, nevermind being a Spark. Why don't you tell how you became a Spark?" My voice is calm as we keep circling each other.

Kate raises her eyebrows and smiles as she 'politely' inclines her head to indicate I should, as if it is a great honour. 

"They couple incestuously under the Hunter's Moon, drinking the blood of a Spark they killed. You killed my mother, drank her blood and fucked Gerard to become even more of a monster than you were, you sick fuck." I swallow convulsively as I feel bile rising in my throat. Dimly I hear some of the others, throwing up.

"Yesss, her blood had been _delicious_. I admit, at first I was hesitant. But how could I give up the chance to have such power. I would finally get rid of the fucking  _Hales_ , the damned creatures had driven me and my daddy mad with their self-righteousness and the hold they had on this city. This city needed to be rid of them. The world needs to be **RID OF THEM ALL** " At first her voice is like a snails and then she roars. My stomach shivers in disgust when she says 'daddy', knowing the kind of relationship they had.

"No, the world needs to be rid of you. All the worlds. Even that of the dead. And I'm going to do that." 

With no further ado, we lunge at each other, her with her deadly, poisonous claws and I with two daggers that I ripped from my thigh holders, soaked in wolfsbane.

I duck as she slashes first with her right hand, then with the other. Popping out to her right side and behind her, I make my first slash at her back. Her clothes rip and from her wound flows black blood, ugly and putrid smelling. She yowls like an insane cat and turns around, showing her teeth. She's more animalistic than any werewolf I've seen. She springs at me again, in a high jump from above, but I bend over and my shoulder catches her stomach and as I rise, she topples over doing a backflip in the air and landing on her fit. It seems like death hasn't slowed her down at all. No matter, the fight has only just began.

She smiles sneeringly, preparing to make another retort, no doubt, but I don't give her the chance, taking a running start before executing a roundhouse kick, pushing her to the ground. The move was is powerful that her neck  does another 180 degrees turn, but she sprang back up before it even had a chance to come all the way around, while I am still in the process of turning around. She manages to kick one of my daggers from my hands and it flies in the air. Before she has the chance to slash at my face, I parry the blow with the side of my now empty hand, before I slash with my remaining dagger at her face. She ducks.

My body is filled with adrenaline, sweat is already pouring down my face. I feel electrified, ready to fight, so I continue to land blows and parry hers. It's disgusting touching her cold, dead flesh. It's almost slimy every time I make contact with my body and not my knife, and I pull back quickly every time, before hitting her again. Her rags keep annoying me as I caught my hand in her 'shirt' and she managed to claw my shoulder before I could get my hand free. So the next time she lives an opening, I slash at the seam of her shirt on the shoulder, managing to take a brief hold with my left before I slash all the way down. Her shirt falls to the side, reavealing her ugly, festering breats. She roars, enraged and I give a harsh laugh. I'm not sure of the others' reaction as I can only concentrate on our fight and on the pulse roaring in my ears, but I imagine at least some amusement.

"What's the matter, more ashamed of flashing your rotting boobs than fucking your daddy?" I taunt, disgusting myself with what comes out of my mouth.

She gives another yowl and pounces towards me, and this time she manages to take me to the ground. We grapple around, I manage to take a grip of her wrists and I wonder how can it be that she's dead but so strong. We roll on the ground, me on top, then her. I gag as her boobs hang almost in my face and I suddenly regret my idea. I buck up to try to throw her off and she laughs maniacally and manages to wrap her legs around my waist when my hips are in the air, trying to dislodge her.

"How about I fuck you, pretty boy? I must say, I still have nice breats. What d'you say, huh?" She purrs as she keeps holding on. Despite my muffled hearing, I can hear a terrifying roar that seems to shake the earth coming from outside the circle and I grit my teeth as I suddenly bring my head forward, smacking it into her face and hopefully knocking off a few teeth that might make her less inclined to smile like the insane zombie bitch she is.

It's not like in the movies. Despite my intense training, it's not all prettily executed moves. I don't have time for that, because while I have enhanced strength and stamina due to my powers, she has more because of the nature of her power source, which is all the people she has killed and also my mother's blood which once she drank, its power remains in her body forever, whether alive or dead in the ground. The thought is horrifying. Breaden did her best, as did Morell, and I truly am a good fighter. But she's dead and supernatural, doesn't really feel pain and probably doesn't care about the pain she feels anyway. And she's fast.

I manage to get back up and I lunge towards the dagger I spied a few feet to the left where it'd fallen when she knocked it out of my hand, but she pounces on me before I get to it, so I'm forced to abandon it for the moment and an punch her powerfully in the face, before she gets to hold me to the ground like last time again. She grunts as my punch breaks her nose and forces her back, and I don't give her time as I throw another punch while she's stupidly distracted with pawing at her nose. Quick as a flash I stretch and grab the dagger before I slash at her face, cutting deep through her right  cheek and curving downward to get the middle of her lips as well. They split pen and the rank, fetid blood splashes on my faces and she roars in pain. With a kick I send her flying back, and I quickly get off the ground, taking a quick moment to search for the other dagger. I find it and it's exactly behind her, I have to option of summoning it to my hand, but I'm not supposed to use my power while in the circle until the end, firstly because I need to replenish my magical strength after the actual summoning and, secondly, because I will need even more magic at the end, after I beat her. So, for the moment, I give up the other dagger.

She grabs it, instead, making my blood boil to see her talons wrap around the hilt of the dagger which I myself carved. She hurls herself at me with a battle cry, which makes for a weird sight seeing as her mouth is split in half, flapping ridiculously and smeared with black. For a moment I almost snort as I imagine actually seeing her uvula. She's so enraged that she slashes madly with the dagger in all directions, but I'm forced to duck wildly as well, if I don't want my head lobbed off. I give a powerful kick between her legs, and she howls and bends over, so I take the opportunity and bring my knee up, fisting my hands in her blond, dirtied mop of hair and smashing her face in my knee, the dagger doesn't drop from her hand but she does manage to sink her claws in my left hand as it's still holding her hair, exatrcting a yelp of pain from me, while I grapple with her her hand that's holding the dagger. 

The hellish creature growls and sinks her teeth in my thigh, and I yell, swearing furiously and letting go of her.

"FUCKING ZOMBIE BITCH!!!!"

My heart is all over the place and I'm furious that she won't die already, so I ignore the throbbing in my thigh and hand where she sank her talons and I spring at her, landing and managing to land a wallop in her left boob, making her bellow. It's almost amusing and I find myself laughing like a sick fuck while I grab a hold of her wrists, in a mirror image of her earlier when she was dangling her bits above me. She's growling, black bubbles of blood and spit as she's foaming at the mouth, head shaking furiously left and right. It's truly a sight you only see in horror movies. Suddenly she bobbs her head forward and I jump back to avoid a head shot, forced to let go.

It goes on and on, to the point where I can feel exhaustion settling in my muscles and my bones are ringing from exchanging blows. I manage to acquire more cuts from her hellish claws, one on the side of my face, frighteningly close to my eye. My hands are slippery, with sweat and my blood and hers, which I also try to avoid as it splashes everywhere because I kinda don't want it to land in my mouth as it almost did a few times. Somehow she manages to deliver a K.O blow to my chin and a snap back, body falling to the ground as my vision blur temporarily, and before I can get my wits back, she straddles me again and suddenly my palms are impaled with my daggers.

I scream as they pierce my flesh and embed in the ground, and before the echo has a chance to end, her clawed hands are around my neck, squeezing for all their worth. All sound is blocked, the only thing I can hear is my pulse thudding in my ears. Her face comes close to mine and she seems like she's hissing something while smiling in a derranged manner. I don't want to die with her zombie face with its split, black smeared skin, milky dead eyes and putrid breath being the last thing I ever see or smell,  and I also don't want to die before I've succeeded my task. Which is killing this bitch forever.

So I give up trying to breathe and with the last power in my body, I shove my palms upwards on the daggers until they touch the hilt, and then push them out of the earth. The action makes her falter for a second and in that time, I bring my head to her neck and sink my teeth in the fetid flesh of her neck, grinding them until I can feel the flesh separate and the disgusting blood fill my mouth. She yowls and it's a weird feeling as her throat vibrates in my mouth, But I don't let go even as I feel spots behind my closed eyelids from the lack of breath from my previous throttling, as well as from the truly repulsive blood I'm gagging on.

She wrenches herself back and, to my never ending horror and nightmares which is sure to haunt me forever, her flesh remains in my mouth. A second away from fainting from lack of oxygen, I spit the chunk of flesh out and take a deep breath. As soon as my lungs are filled, I bring one hand to my mouth and bite the end of the dagger's hilt, holding it steady and wreanching my palm off of the blade. I take the other dagger out of my left hand with my now free right. and then I pounce on her, where she's gurgling on the ground. I shove both daggers in her, the first one in her heart, the other one in her left eye, and then I have no more power and I fall to the ground, a few steps back. 

My hearing is finally back, I'm desperately gasping for breath, trying to make up for those seconds where I couldn't breath. Everything is silent, except for my harsh breathing and her, hissing on the ground. She's not actually pinned by the daggers like how my palms had been, but the daggers  _are_ soaked in wolfsbane, and even she can't get up with a knife in her heart and eye, and her throat ripped out.

She gives another derranged laugh, her breats trembling and falling to the sides as she lays spread out. She's the most disgusting creature he'd ever seen, and she kind of resembles the one from The Exorcist.

"Do you think your little pocket knives can kill me? You're gonna need more than that, honey. And I bet you don't have the guts to k - " she's gives another gurgling sound as she chokes on her own putrid blood.

"Don't worry Kitty Kat, nothing can ever be worse than tasting your horrible, foul flesh. If I had the guts to do that, I have the guts to do anything." And I stagger up off the ground, because I need to finish this once and for all. 

Walking over, I pick up a tied up small satchel filled with mountain ash and wolfsbane, before I go back to her. I put the little bag down and grab her by her hair as I drag her, kicking and screaming, over to the whole. It seems her strength has waned, with the poisonous daggers in her, her various wounds and the loss of the magical blood. My  mother's blood, altough not quite. Filled with new fury, I throw her in the hole from which she crawled out of, and, tired, I summon the little sack of wolfsbane to my hand, before grabing a fistful and throwing it in the air. It surrounds the hole.

I take a deep breath and speak. 

"Kate Argent, for your crimes of killing a Spark to gain powers which are forbidden to a Hunter, for killing an entire family of innocent werewolves and your other various crimes, attrocities and deeds that go against nature and disturb the balance of our Worlds, by the power vested in me by my sacred kind, I punish you to suffer the same fate and pain you have inflicted upon others, and I banish you from existence from this world and all others, as is my right as a protector and a holder of balance." And with that said, I will Fire to come to life in my right hand, and flick it over at her where she lies in the hole.

As is my duty as her executioner, I step closer and watch impassively as she howls in pain, hair alight and eyes bulbous in her head as she bobbs out of the whole, clawing at the sides to push herself up and getting thrown back down by the barrier of moutain ash. The stench is even more impossible than before, it seems that decayed flesh stinks even worse when fried, and I feel the urge to throw up not only because of the smell but because of the action I've been forced to take. It brings me no pleasure, no satisfaction as I watch her continue to burn and scream horribly, shrilly and jaggedly, like a cat choking to death and a mooing cow all at once. But what makes me sick is imagining how similar it must be exactly what Derek's poor family sounded like, and with a great gag I bend over right where I am and throw up nothing but acid and blood. Her black blood. After I finish gagging, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and bend right up, probably white in the face and sweaty as I look back towards the hole.

She's silent. Probably stopped screaming while I was puking my guts up. The fire has encompassed the hole completely, but the barrier makes it so it doesn't spread outside. I'm not sure what to do now, that it's over. That I won. In theory, I know what needs to be done, but I find I can't move from my place. How can I ever look anyone in the eye again? How would I explain what I just did to everyone? They've had my eyes trained on me during all this, but I will have to explain myself, and for the life of me, I don't know what to say. How am I going to look Derek in the eye, knowing what I just put him through, what I forced him to witness. 

Because while Kate Argent had been his enemy and the reason for the miserable life he has, he still had to watch a humanoid creature burn. Just like his family. I hope to whatever Gods there are, that I haven't triggered him.

The magical fire is starting to die down, which means she's well and truly dead, erased from existence forever. With a numb hand I make two gestures and the two piles of dirt on both sides fall over, covering the smoking hole. I let the barrier fall and then I stagger around, facing  everyone. The excitement from this morning is well and truly gone. I feel like a monster myself, despite only doing the duty I was obliged to uphold, by ancient laws. The clearing remains silent.

 

                                                                                                                                      

 

 

 

_To be continued..._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The silence lingers for what seems like an eternity. I'm looking at them, but not really. My eyes go right through them and I'm trembling, slightly. There's a horrible taste in my mouth, dead flesh. Bile rises in my throat and I bend over and throw up again, because it's unbearable.

"Derek, I'd advise against ripping someone's throat out with your teeth." My mouth moves before my brain can catch up, and I'm not sure humor is the way to go right now, but what else can I say to break the ice, really?

Suddenly something heavy barrels into me, wrapping thick, muscle corded arms aroun my body, and I bury my head in the crook of his neck and inhale his fresh forest-at-night scent. His hand is fisted in my hair tightly.

Another heavy weight wraps itself around us from the side, and I can feel his badge where it's pressed into my body. My dad is hugging us both, and a weak smile appears in my face at the thought that my dad cares about Derek.

"Son..." My dad seems out of words, but Derek has something to say, apparently.

"I can't believe you'd be so stupid, Stiles!!!!" his voice is harsh, but I know he's just worried.

"I'm sorry, but I had to do this. Like, I literally had to. If I didn't do this, I would die and probably take half the town with me. It's my duty as a Spark. And it was the right thing to do."

My dad shakes his head, and finally lets go. Derek squeezes me one last time and lets go as well. I look at both of them. Dad's face is red and for a moment I'm worried about the stress to his heart. Derek seems to be barely hanging on his control, hair disheveled in all directions, fists tight.

"Well, that was interesting. And very satisfying. Thank you, Stiles." Peter said, and I shifted my eyes to where he's by his tree. His eyes are glittering with excitement.

"I thought you'd be jealous that I did a better job than you, Uncle Pete. I mean, slashing a throat with your claws is wimpy. Now, ripping it out with your teeth, that's a job well done." I grinned weakly and he gave a short bark of laughter. Dad's eyebrows twitched in disapproval but I ignored it for now.

The others were silent, looking at me with a multitude of expressions from shock, disgust and even ..fear?

Scott's face is the most shocked, and there's a hint of disgust too. My breath hitches in guilt, but Deaton's throat clearing brings me out of it.

Right.

"Get back. I'm not finished yet."

There's a chorus of 'what' around the clearing, and dad's and Derek's are the loudest.

My dad comes forward again, arms crossed over his chest.

"No way, kiddo. You're coming home with me now, and the first thing you're doing is washing your mouth. With disinfectant, probably."

Peter chuckles at this.

"No, first he should have his hands bandaged." Derek's scowling, glaring at my hands as he says this. Oh, and now I realize that my hands do feel cold and kind of numb.And very, very bloody.

I shake my head. "No, it would interfere with the ritual Every wound I got and every wound I inflicted is the sacrifice for the next part of my ritual."

"No, you know what? We don't care about this. We don't wanna be here and see this circus freak make another spectacle! I demand you let us leave!!!!!!!!!!" Jackson's bratty voice interrupts Derek who closes his mouth sharply at what no doubt would have been a tongue lashing for me, and he turns his head around swiftly to glare at Jackson. Jackson has stepped slightly forward, dragging Lydia with him and he seems one foot stomp away from a full tantrum.

Before Derek can open his mouth to put him back in his place, Deaton steps forward and clears his throat again before saying in his usual calm voice.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Mr. Whittemore."

"And why the hell not? You can't hold us captive!"

Derek growls. "I'm your Alpha, if I say it's important for you to be here, you stay here."

Jackson begins to sputter angrily and Lydia looks like she wants to interfere but she purses her lips and remains silent, only looking at all of us intently.

"It is imperative that you all remain in this clearing to witness the ritual, otherwise you will forget everything with the rest of the town." Deaton calmly states.

The others gasp, and Derek and dad whip around sharply to glare at me. I'm tired of this, I want them all to step back and let me do this before any remaining power saps and I collapse in a heap on the ground from magical and physical exhaustion.

I raise my hands to stop their protests and shake my head. "Believe me, it's nothing bad. It's important that the rest of the population who aren't in the know of the supernatural forget this."

Suddenly Scott stomps a few feet forward, nostrils flaring and I know what he's going to say.

"Hey, what about Allison and Chris?"

Please, Gods, give my patience.

"Hunters, as much as they try to deny it, aren't that human themselves, Scott. Some of them are stupid enough to believe that they're not part of the supernatural, but the truth is that once you are in the know of the supernatural, you become part of it, even if just a little. Hunters, in a way, are like Sparks, in the sense that they live in between worlds. They will remember. Also, did you think I'd dig into Kate's grave to fish her bone out, without letting them know? I mean, I would have done it with or without their permission, but it's the right think to do. Now are you all done or do you want to wait here until night falls and my work will be harder?" My voice is drawling sarcastically, especially towards the end because really now, while I know they are shocked and all, I need to finish this.

Scott looks reprimanded and he crosses his arms on his chest as he goes back to Isaac, who is glaring at me. My dad and Derek, with one final warning look at me, step back as well and I take a deep breath.

I turn around, my back to them, facing the other circle where the eight little piles of dirt with my hair and blood sit in the middle of the circle. I was careful to place them at three feet distance from each other. My heart begins to beat wildly again, because while the first part of the ritual was the hardest one, this one is the most excitable. This is the fruit of my hard work in the last two years, and of my effort and blood tonight. What happens now is going to change everything. I was right this morning, all this would have been worth it at the end of the day. And now, there is no failure from me. It's impossible for me to fail. The fight with Kate was the most difficult, and while this is going to be taxing on my mind and my magic, it will be easy enough to do.

A Spark is all about belief. All I have to do now, is to believe with all my being. As I was telling Derek earlier, every blow I received and delivered in my earlier fight, is all part of the sacrifice required to accomplish this last part of my quest. For a moment I wish I had let Kate slam me around more, but this should be enough. The biggest sacrifice of all, is in fact not of the body, but of the mind. Because I chose this task, and I chose to surround my 'arena' with moutain ash so that the monster won't escape and, equally important, that the others won't interfere. There was the strong possiblility that I would die, and that was the biggest sacrifice from my part. I almost did, at the end there. Kate's ultimate death is also the second biggest chunk of a sacrifice. To restore the balance, I had to kill the Dark Spark.

I take one last deep breath and then I walk towards the circle. Deaton's car is parked right next to the barrier of the circle, and his trunk is opened. He nods to me when I question him silently, and I nod back before I close my eyes and whisper.

 

**Gwaed ar fy ngwaed, byddwch ysbrydion o gariad,**  
 **Dewch o isod ac oddi uchod;**  
 **Endidau cariadus sy'n dymuno yn dda i mi,**  
 **Dewch i'r cylch hwn pan fyddaf yn swnio y gloch.**

 

I incant every word slowly and from the bottom of my very being. I can feel my chest tingling, my heart getting warmer in my chest, the atmosphere is heavy once again, but this time the wind is ruffling my hair and it seems joyous, like it's dancing through each strand. The wounds that have stopped bleeding start to drip once again, the drops flowing down my face. The blood from where my hands were impaled twines around my fingers before plunging into the dirt at my feet. There is no scent of death, unlike the first summoning. Only of life, of the sun as it shines, of trees and fresh grass. Of joy. My heart is tattooing what I want into existence. So the small piles of dirt start growing, slowly. At first they have no shape, they just keep growing like little moutains, and the circle is expanding towards the right the bigger they get. Some of them only reach to my waist, others are even smaller, to my knees or smaller still. My heart twinges at the thought. I'm breathing heavily and my blood flows quicker.

I start to feel weaker and it shows because the piles stop growing for a beat, and I let out a strangled 'No' before I clench my fists and squeeze my eyes harder.

The piles grow start growing again, slower than before. Bullets of sweat slide down my face, my veins are numb. In the warm afternoon sun, I feel cold.

After I finish incanting for the third time, time stands still. My heart skips a few beats, even the wind is still. And then, the dirt piles begin to crumble, falling to the ground but as they fall, eight figures are revealed. My breath stops in my chest this time out of my excitement. I did it. There are cries of surprise behind me, from everyone. I wish I could turn around and look at Derek, see the expression on his face. But I don't have time now. 

In front of me is Talia and Aaon, Charlotte, Laura and Taylor, Sheila and Phillip and lastly, sitting on her bum at the end, a little girl that must be Skylar. The Hale family is back. Because of me. I feel a tremendous wave of joy. Deaton is already starting to take blankets out of the trunk and turn towards me. I walk over and take them from him and then step over the barrier. As I enter the circle, I hear the commotion behind me, steps rushing over and an anguished sob.

My eyes meet Talia's as I hand her a blanket and her face is gentle, a tiny curl of her lips at the corners. I bare my neck, turning my head towards the right and her warm hand touches the side of my neck gently. She takes another blanket and hands it to Aaron and my eyes are looking only at their face as I walk around, handing blankets before stopping in front of little Skylar. She gives me a toothy smile, and I'm gone. I want to coo at her. I bend over and pick her up, swaddling her in a blanket and she giggles as I hand her back to her mother. 

Finally I turn around. Derek looks broken. His bushy eyebrows are bunched together, his eyes are wet and his chin is trembling. He seems like he doesn't know where to look. At his mother and father or at Laura. A broken whimper excapes his lips and my heart breaks for him. With a wave of my hand, the barrier is open and Laura hurls herself into Derek's arms with an ugly sob. Peter comes forward slowly, face disbelieveing.

"Daddy!" the little boy barrels into Peter, who is white as a sheet, wrapping his arms around his knees. Peter slowly lowers himself to his knees, cupping Phillip's face. He looks shattered, squeezing the boy's cheeks as if to check if he is real. 

He is. They all are. And they are here to stay this time. I can feel the change in the air. It's like a terrible weight has lifted off of my shoulders, like I can breath for the first time. From now on, everything is going to be fine, because the balance has been restored.

The other Hales start to move as well. Sheila goes to her husband and son, Laura and Taylor, who must have moved over to them when I was watching Peter reuniting with his son, let go of Derek, and they all have red eyes and tear tracks. I can't help but smile when Derek rushes over and lifts Talia, who is still holding Skylar, off her feet,  in a giant bear hug. Several chuckles echo around the clearing, including mine. I cannot hear what they are whispering but it looks like Derek is sobbing silently, face smushed in his mother's hair.

Aaron gets tired of waiting and moves over, putting his big hand on the back of Derek's neck, smiling. "Shhh, son. We're here. Everything will be fine." His voice is so alike Derek's, only slightly rougher with age. 

"What's with all this sobbing?! If I must be subjected to it, someone better light me a cigar." I look over at the speaker, Charlotte, the eldest Hale, and I cannot help but burst into laughter at her grumpy expression that is so much like her nephew's. She turns her head and looks grumpily at me, before glaring at Deaton.

"Boy, where's my cigars?" I want to laugh again as she scolds  _Deaton_. She just called Deaton 'boy'. Oh, this is going to be good, I can tell.

Dad comes over as well. He looks like someone clobbered him over the head, he keeps looking at the Hales and then at me. His eyes are weird, and suddenly I find it hard to look at him because I can only imagine what goes on in his head. A person is missing. But there are limitations to what I can do. I know he's searching for mom in this crowd of people, but if if were possible for Sparks to bring back their families, they would all try to do that; they would disrupt the balance of nature. To give life, a life has to be taken, and you can't give life to just anyone. It has to be for a greater cause. I couldn't have just killed anyone today, and bring the Hales back. It doesn't work that way. I had to kill the person responsible for this situation in the first place. That was Kate, the Hunter become Dark Spark. Logically, from his point of view, since mom died because of Kate, then she should be back as well. But it's not possible..I wish it was. I shake my head and look away from his eyes, and I from the corner of my eyes I can see his him ducking his head to look at the ground for a few. Suddenly my eyes meet Derek's, over Charlotte's shoulder who is hugging him and talking loudly to him about something.

His eyes are indecipherable. When Charlotte lets go, he comes over to me and I shove my hands in my pockets as we look at each other. His eyes are impossibly green, and grey, and the color of the sea foam with a speck of gold. And they shine. They're hypnotizing. 

He clears his throat and speaks in a croaky voice.

"Stiles..." he shakes his head. "How?"

"The balance is restored, Derek. I erased what Kate did." I tell him, my lips curling into a smile.

"And they're here for good?" he sounds so hopeful, but also wary, like he is unwilling to believe this. Like he expects them all to vanish suddenly.

"Don't worry, baby brother, we're not going anywhere!" Laura chirps, suddenly hanging off of Derek's shoulder. She smooches him on the cheek with a loud 'moah' and then smiles over at me. I smile back.

Taylor ambles over and scowls at his sister when she fumbles with her blanket. "Jeez Laura, can you cover yourself better? I have no desire to see your hanging bits."  He looks so much like Derek, it's insane. He's shorter than his brother, but he's also younger so maybe in time he'd be as tall. Or maybe he takes after Talia, who despite her imposing figure, she's quite short.

Laura snorts and shoots him a narrowed glare. "Oh, like you haven't seen my 'hanging bits' for at least a hundred times when I've shifted before!" Taylor shivers in mock disgust and his 'Ugh' is covered by Derek who laughs weakly. I'm chuckling as well. It's awesome to watch them banter.

The constant murmur over the clearing as the Hales talk to each other, or Talia to my dad, is interrupted by Jackson's loud voice. 

"What the hell? So what, they're back now, just because Stilinski did some hocus pocus?" Always count on Jackson to ruin the mood. We all turn over to look at him, and the pack, who have come closer. They seem weirded out. Erica and Boyd seemed shocked and awed at the same time. Isaac looks skeptical while Scott frowns in confusion and Jackson is scowling, as usual, with a fascinated Lydia ad his side. I can see the glint in her eyes and I know she wants to analyze them under a microscope.

Peter growls at Jackson while Derek only glares, annoyed. Lydia rolls her eyes at her boyfriend too, and elbows him in the side. The Hales are regarding him kind of like you would look at a bug. 

"Yes, Jackson. The Hale family is back to Beacon Hills. Do you have a problem with that?" I answer, my voice cold.

He sputters, gesturing behind him. "And what are the others going to say, huh? How are you going to explain a whole family coming back to life?" 

Lydia sighs glaring into space as if asking herself what she's doing by this idiot's side and, I sigh too and look at the sky, closing my eyes briefly as if I'm asking the gods to give me strength. Laura giggles.

But before I can answer, Talia Hale does, looking imperious in her white sheet that makes her look as if she's wearing a toga. She looks like a goddess.

"I am sure Mr...," she stops, inquiring his name.

"Jackson Whittemore." Jackson answers, in a tone that she should have known who he is even from behind the grave. He's such an arrogant little shit, I feel like walloping him over the head.

"Mr. Whittemore, I'm sure young Stiles here has already explained." She gives me a small curl of lips, as she says my name, and I smile, amused as Jackson gives me a quick glare, because how dare she know my name but not his?!

He just shrugs and Lydia has had enough, it seems, and she cutts in, tone biting,  "for God's sake, Jackson, he said we have to stay here during the ritual because otherwise out memories will be wiped with the rest of Beacon Hills. Keep up. You're making me look stupid." 

Laura and I laugh at the beta's furious scowl at being scolded by Lydia in public.

The others from the pack keep silent, but they seem full of questions as well. Probably wondering what's going to happen now, along with my dad, who clears his throat.

"It's good that no one else will remember what happened, then. It would have made it very awkward to try to justify. However, we have to think of accommodation." My dad, ever the voice of reason. Talia nods, and she looks over at the ruins of the house, along with the rest of us. Her eyes seem sad, as are the rest of the Hales'. From the corner of my eye, Derek makes a movement and I turn to look at him only to see him with his head ducked, glaring at the ground, shoulders slumped. I bet he's slipped in one of his self-guilt, self-loathing moments so I reach over and take his hand, giving it a small shake and then a squeeze. He raises his head and looks over at me. I see Charlotte's sharp eyes watching us. Finally, Derek gives me a weak smile and straightens his shoulders, and I turn back to dad's conversation with Talia. 

"Well, that settles it, then." Dad nods decisively before turning to the rest of us. Talia does as well.

"The Sheriff informed me that he would gladly house a part of us for a few days. He also told me of Derek's loft?" She looks at Derek, raising her eyebrows and smiling. Derek steps forward and nods.

"Yeah, there's a king bed upstairs and there's also a pull-out couch downstairs. It should comfortably house a few of us." Talia nods looks considerably at her family. 

She turns to the Sheriff. "Do you think you could take Laura and Taylor?" 

My dad nods. "Yeah, we have a guest room, a big enough couch downstairs and I think Stiles also has an inflatable mattress." He turns to look questionably at me.

"Yeah, the one Scott used to sleep on when he spent the night." Dad nods at Talia.

"Well, then. I, Aaron and Skylar, as well as Charlotte, Sheila and - "

Peter cuts in. "I have an apartment as well." Talia turns to look at him. "It's a one room apartment and my couch is small, but it would fit Sheila and my son."

I knew Peter had a wife and a son. He told me some stories on one of our tea meetings, but it still feels weird to hear him say 'son'. The pack seems to be of the same opinion, from their expressions.

Talia accepts this. "That's even better. Derek, my dear, where are you going to stay? With us?" 

Derek purses his lips, looking from his mother and father, to Laura, Taylor and me. My dad intervenes.

"How about he stays with us? We have enough space. Besides, there is only one bed and a couch at his loft." Derek and his mom nod, the latter smiling at her son. Derek gives a small smile back and my heart almost skips a beat at how adorable he looks when he's shy.

"I believe we should get in touch with the constructors as soon as possible", Aaron says, from wheresits next to Talia, one hand on her shoulder. She, along with all of the Hales and my Dad nod.

"Well, then, I bet you're all tired, not to mention in need of a change of clothes." My dad says, gesturing to his car. Oh yeah, clothes.

"Uhm, what are we going to do about clothes? I can probably lend Laura and Taylor something.." I said, looking scrutinizingly at them. They nod. "But what about the others?" 

Lydia cuts in. "I and my mother recently went through our wardrobes, preparing to give some away to charities. I can go home and select some and Jackson can bring them to the loft, if that's okay?" Jackson sputters as he hears the last part.

Talia smiles at her. "That would be wonderful, thank you Miss Martin." I wonder how she knows Lydia's name. Lydia seems pleased while Jackson scowls even more. It's so satisfying to see him so frustrated.

"Well, let's go already. I want clothes, a cigar and a bed, all in that order." We all laugh at Charlotte. I think I'm going to love Derek's grandmom.

My dad walks over to his cruiser with Charlotte, Talia and Aaron who is holding little Skylar, while I step in line with Derek, Laura and Taylor as we walk towards Derek's Camaro.  Peter, who is carrying his son on his shoulders, and his wife start walking away, because Peter actually doesn't live very far from the Hale house. He lives in an apartment building, the last one before the forest begins and you go right on the private road to the Hale house.

I stop in front of the passanger seat of the Camaro, holding the door open as I remember something. I look over at Deaton.

"Deaton, should I - " but he cuts me off.

"Don't worry, Stiles. I will take care of this." He says, smiling kindly and gesturing at the mess of the clearing, the ingredients that I used in the rituals as well as my daggers, I frown as I consider going over to take them with me, but they're filthy with Kate's putrid remnants and I shudder to go anywhere near them right now, so I nod in thanks to Deaton and enter the Camaro, shutting the door gently behind me.

Derek smiles at me and Laura and Taylor are bickering in the backseat. He starts the ignition and drives away. Then I remember the others and I look in the mirror, to see some talking with each other and others going in their own cars. Scott, however, is looking back after us. I smile sadly.

Taylor leans forward. "So, Stiles, tell me about your videogames!"

 

_To be continued..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the translation of the spell:
> 
> I give you my blood, you spirits of love,  
> Come from below and from above;
> 
> Entities loving who only wish well,  
> Come to this circle and live again.
> 
> I didn't insert it into the text, because I didn't want you all to figure it out too quickly. Don't worry, there's more. I love me some ressurected Hales. :)) Hope you liked it. I tried my best, but sometimes I'm not very good with dialogue. I also have some pictures for the characters that I can't wait to show them. I'm going to edit them now and add them later.


	3. THE HALES - PICTURES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. SORRY, this isn't a chapter, I just wanted you to see the Hales as I see them. I have a problem, though. It's the fact that I had these pictures in a folder planned for a fic, for like, a year, and I don't remember the names of some of the actors. If you know them, please tell me in a comment. I hope you like the actors I've chosen. Also, I'm aware that in the first chapter I said Peter's boy is months old. Obviously, I changed that, and I'll edit the chapter soon as well. Phillip is actually younger than the actor in this photo, though, so you can imagine him slightly younger. Sorry for the crappy editing of the photos, especially of Aaron, who I tried to make older using PhotoScape. Yeah.. :D 
> 
> Sorry if you thought this is a chapter.

                                            

  

                            

 

              

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this is a chapter full of fluff. Not much plot here, but I hope you'll enjoy it. :D

A gentle hand on my shoulder, fingers reaching past my T-shirt, warm and soft on my neck startles me and I open my eyes. I'm disoriented at first and my eyes are blurry. It takes a few seconds before I remember where I am, with whom and what happened.

Derek's soft voice breaks the silence.

"Come on, sleepy head. Let's get inside, you're exhausted."

Derek is right. I am exhausted, physically and psychically. The events of today have been taxing not only on my body and magic, but on my emotions as well. That moment when the piles of dirt stopped growing comes to mind, and I shudder a little. At that point, I couldn't have failed in bringing Derek's family back, but if I wouldn't have been able to gather my strength then my job would have been harder for me, and I would have suffered the risk of serious injury.

I stagger out of the car and turn around, to see Laura and Tyler climb gracefully out.

Werewolves.

Derek's small huff makes me turn towards him and there's a strange look on his face as he glares at the...door of the Camaro? Did he seriously want to open my door for me? I give him a look, though I have to fight to keep a smile of my face. But I give up and smile anyway, turning towards his siblings.

"Welcome to Casa de Stilinski. Mi casa es su casa, guys. Der, here, had certainly felt that way from day one. Remember that day, buddy?" My voice manages to sound tired, excited and amused all at once, as we enter the house, I stepping aside to let the smiling siblings first, followed after a scowling Der and finally me.

"What did he do?" asks Laura eagerly.

"Oh, he was lurking in the corner like the great creeper he is and my dad almost caught us." I laugh as I remember.

Derek scoffs.

"He wouldn't have almost caught us if you'd had kept your trap shut."

"Well, how the hell was I supposed to react when a wanted criminal was hiding in my room!!"

Laura barks a sharp laughter and Tyler does a double take.

"Wait, wanted criminal?" he stared at Derek incredulously. "Derek, a criminal?!"

His incredulity and vehemence makes me wonder.

"Why is that so hard to believe? Look at him," I flail my hand in the scowling alpha's direction as I move forward towards the living room, the others following me.

"all scowl-y and clad in leather. He's Beacon Hill's resident bad boy!" Laura laughs so hard, the sheet that covers her almost slips, causing Taylor and Derek to glare at her.

She wipes a tear from her eye. "Oh, my God. This is the best joke I've heard in a while."

"Derbear, here, was totally a momma's boy. He was a stickler for the rules, all serious and dutiful." Her face is one of glee while Derek sends her a poisonous look - altough you can see his eyes sparkle with affection as he mock-glares at her.  
We all laugh as Derek sniffs and lifts his chin defiantly. "There's nothing wrong with following the rules, Laura. They are there for a reason."

His sister snorts, rolling her eyes before sharing an amused and fond look with me.

Yeah, I can imagine Derek like that, the sourwolf. I shake my head, smiling.

"Okay, guys. Laura, are you going to take the guest room while Taylor takes the couch," the couch is actually big enough, it should fit him nicely, "or are you two going to room together?"

They look at each other and speak at the same time.

"Together."

I smile and nod, because for an unknown reason I already knew what they were going to choose. I wouldn't pass out on wolfy snuggles with my sibling, either.

"Hey, Der, can you make us some tea while I go wash my hands and face? I feel disgusting." He nods and walks into the kitchen, knowing his way around the Stilinski kitchen due to the many times he ate here with me and dad, and I smile at the siblings talking softly on the couch while I hurry - more like hobble - upstairs to the bathroom.

When I look into the mirror, I can't recognize myself. My hair is up in all directions, my eyes are red and veiny, with purple circles underneath. And all my face is covered in Kate's disgusting bodily fluids. I look like the dead. Shaking my head, I turn the water towards Hot and lather my hands with liquid soap up towards my elbows. I'm scrubbing furiously at my hands, until the black is gone and all I can see is the red marks left by my nails. After throughly washing my face and hands, I walk into my room and open the wardrobe, searching for clothes for Laura and Tyler. Derek already has his own clean and folded pile of clothes which he left behind on the many nights he spend at our house. They smell like him, and I'm happy that his scent has permeated my whole wardrobe. Derek smells amazing. Finally choosing a soft grey leisure suit that is soft and comfortable enough for Laura to sleep in, and an old, long sleeved shirt with a pair of flannel pajama pants for Tyler, I grab two large towels and leave them in the bathroom, before making my way downstairs.

"Laura, I think this should fit you nicely. I think we're actually the same shape," I laugh awkwardly, "so this should be okay for you. It's soft and warm."

She laughs and grabs the leisure suit, placing it on the couch next to her as she sips at the chammomile tea Derek made.

I hand Taylor's clothes to him. "This should be alright for you too." He grins and nods in thanks.

Derek hands me my mug of tea from where he's sitting in a small love seat next to me while I sink into Dad's arm chair, sighing and cupping my hands around the hot mug. It's so warm and comforting.

"There are towels in the bathroom."

"Thanks, Stiles."

"Yeah, I can't wait to get this dirt off. Couldn't you have thought of another method?" Laura wets her tumb and wipes at her hand, before bringing her thumb up to lick again, much to Taylor's disgust.

She freezes, realizing what she's done before grimacing and hiding her hand under her thigh, making me and Derek laugh.

"I'm sorry Laura, the alternatives wouldn't have been better, believe me."

Taylor looks up, curiously. "What were the alternatives?

"You'd be better not knowing."

My face pales as I think about them, and Derek, next to me, shakes his head.

 

 

The tea works its magic and soon enough, not just me but all of us are drooping in our seats. Derek, probably the least tired of us coughs and we all shake awake.  
"Perhaps we should all go to bed."

Yeah, that sounds like heaven. But then something occurs to me.

"Wait, aren't you guys hungry?"

I know I'm famished and altough my tiredness is greater right now, maybe the others want to eat something. We could order take out or something.

But Laura, Tyler and Derek all shake their heads.

"Too much work, right now." Laura yawns, grabbing her clothes and standing up.

Tyler nods.

"Yeah, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to shower."

Laura instantly scowls. "You bet your wolfy ass you're showering, even if I have to drag you there by your tail. You're not sleeping next to me caked in mud!"

I crack up at Laura's choice of wording. We're going to get along nicely. Derek next to me shoots me an amused look, probably knowing what I'm thinking.

We all climb the stairs and after I show Laura and Tyler where the guest room and bathroom is, I eneter my room, followed by Derek. I guess my dad is still working things out with the other Hales at Derek's loft, so he'll be coming home later. Derek is silent as he sits on my bed, watching me. His eyes are full of affection and awe, and I blush and avert my eyes, giving a spin in my chair. When I'm facing him again, I startle as I find him right in front of me. He suddenly bends over and his arms pull me in a strong hug that I immediatly reciprocate. I love Derek's hugs, the man is like a big, warm, hairy teddy bear. I could probably write sonnets about Derek's hugs.  
He takes a deep breath and I can feel his rib cage expand against mine, before letting it out sharply as he's nuzzling behind my ear. I always get goosebumps when he does this. He knows I know that he's scenting me.

"I'll never be able to thank you enough." His voice is nothing but a breathy whisper.

"You don't have to. This wasn't just my duty, I did this for you, first and foremost. I want you to be happy, Der."

And it's the truth. Derek is an amazing friend. The best friend I could ever ask for. He is attentive and actually listens, not making everything about him when you need it to be about you for a little while. Behind his grumpy shell, he has a warm, gentle heart that makes it impossible not to get attached to the idiot once you truly know him. I couldn't resist him, and neither could my dad. Derek brings out the protectiveness in the Stilinskis' like nothing else.

One of his greatest imperfections, though, in my opinion, is how harsh he is on himself. While he is indeed a great listener, he's prone to reluctancy and clamming up when it's about him. I can't count on both hands how many times I've had to convince him to speak what's truly on his heart. Oh, the man's great at seeming like he has no trouble expressing his opinion, but I know better. When it's actually something that truly bothers him, Derek closes up faster than a clam shell. In time, he has learned to open himself up more, especially to me. This way I know how much he's still suffering for the loss of his family. Losing your pack is even harder when there are actually blood ties rather than just the normal pack bond. The loss is irrevocable, and I could see the weight on Derek even while he was somewhat better when spending time with me and dad. The pack also didn't help, in their vehement refusal to accept him as their alpha. Sure, Erica and Boyd had returned, after all, but while they've submitted physically and verbally, their soul wasn't into it.

They don't know it, and Derek forbid me to tell them, but it actually hurts Derek's wolf - thus, Derek. It makes his inner wolf question itself and hate itself because he can't be better, can't be a good enough alpha to be loved by his pack, especially when it remembers a time when he obviously was loved by his pack. At that point enters the self-loathing and blame that he caused his former pack's death, and no matter how many times I told him it's not true, I never succeeded at convincing him. I think this time I finally did.

This is why I've been so harsh on the pack and Scott, lately. Because they're petty teenagers, almost adults, really, and they don't realize how their behaviour and words affect a person that has so many issues, such as Derek. Not even Lydia, who prides herself as the smartest of the lot. Or maybe she knows and she doesn't care or thinks it's not her business, which clearly demonstrates how little she actually knows about what it means to be pack. Anyway, the fact that they are teenagers doesn't excuse them. No matter how much Scott whines about deserving a normal high school experience, the fact of the matter is that we don't always get what we want or deserve, and we are all dealt bad cards by fate, but we must try to get over them. How hard can it be to have everything another person would want to have, such as speed, strength and other abillities that every human covets, not to mention when it saved you from a potentially killing asthma attack. There was the strong chance he wouldn't have made it out of high school alive, especially when I remember how determined he was the night we were looking for Laura's body in the woods - I shiver when I think of that now - to join the lacrosse team, asthma or not.

We all have to just deal with what we're given, and to try to be considerate to others at the same time. I find it unfair that the betas got what they wanted - the bite - and now they don't 'like it' anymore - something which I think is not true, anyway - so they take it out on Derek's psychological and emotional sanity. They deserve a big kick up their backside, to force them to wake up to how life works.

Derek pulls back and I blink as I realize we've been hugging for almost half an hour. I'm shivering as the cool air hits me, the last of Derek's preternatural heat dissipating. The shower's not working anymore so that means that Derek's siblings have taken their showers and have went to bed.

At this point I'm so tired I'm considering forgoing the shower altogether and just slumping over on my very attractive bed, but from Derek's raised eyebrows as he watches me look longingly at my bed, that's not an option.

"Let's shower together."

"Wha -" and, of course I have to go and choke on my own saliva, like the biggest loser in existence.

Derek's lips curl in a small smirk, the bastard.

"It's obvious that you won't make it through the shower without falling asleep on your feet and possibly knocking yourself out when you inevitably fall and crack your skull open. I don't entertain the image of finding you drowned in your own shower. Besides, if Laura didn't let Taylor sleep in the bed while only covered in dirt, do you think I'm going to let you sleep covered in Kate's blood?"

I scowl at him as he grabs my hand, pulling me out of my chair and steering us towards the bathroom.

"I hate it when you're reasonable!"

He snorts and lets me sit on the toilet seat while he goes back to our room to get our clothes. Soon he's back and I find that I'm too tired to blush as he helps me undress myself. Normally I would be sputtering all over the place at the humiliation, but I'm too tired to argue. I just want to sleep forever. Soon he's dragging me to the shower. The water is hot and delicious on my skin, Derek's soft, soapy hands are scrubbing my arms, chest and back clean and I can't help but sigh contentedly. Getting to know the real Derek is the best decision I've ever made in my life.

I would reciprocate, but that would be kind of improper since we're friends and Derek only washed me because I'm pretty much incapacitated at the moment. He's fully able to wash himself. Next time Derek will be incapacitated, I will return the favor, only I hope there won't be a next time. For some reason, I feel sad for a few seconds before I shake my head because that's idiotic. Of course I don't want Derek incapacitated, what the hell. My brain tries to analyze my thought further but I just shake my head again and ignore Derek's questioning look as he finishes washing his hair. His hands had felt awesome when he did the same to me. Pity it's a one time only.

Soon we're clean, dry and clothed and then the light is out, the room is more peaceful than ever and our bed is so comfortable, I fall asleep almost instantly. It's only a few seconds before my mind blanks out completely that a thought sluggishly hits me.

I've called my room and my bed 'ours'. I fall asleep before I can consider the implications.

 

  
                                                                                          

 

When I wake up, my face is smushed into Derek's chest and his heavy arm is draped over my back, fingers curled on my side. My left leg is thrown over both of his, and to my sheer embarassment, I've drooled right on Derek's nipple. I start to move to jump out of bed, but I don't want to wake him up yet. So I remove my leg and slide from under his arm carefully, and I smile when he frowns and turns towards my side of the bed, hugging my pillow. He's the most adorable cuddlewolf ever.

Hopefully he won't notice the drool à la Stiles coating his left nipple.

I was right to not wake him up, when I look over at the clock on my bedsite table. It's still early morning, and I can feel that I'm still tired but replacing my energy isn't only helped by sleeping, but by eating too. So after getting dressed, I head downstairs and straight outside to Derek's Camaro, having grabbed his keys from my desk. I know without even looking inside, that the Stilinski fridge is currently in no way equipped to feed a magically starved human, two newly resurrected teenage werewolves,  one adult alpha and one ravenous Sheriff. 

Shopping is quite difficult, and I regret my decision not to wake my Alpha when I barely push the cart over to the Camaro, before depositing the heavy bags in the trunk, backseat  _and_ the passanger seat. Derek better be awake 'cause he's helping me cart this to the kitchen or so help me..

I discover there won't be a need for threats when Derek's waiting for me on the front porch, face scowl-y and arms crossed over his  _naked_ chest, Jesus. The neighbours are having a field day.

"Stiles." growls Derek when I stumble out of the car.

"Oh shut it, grumpywolf, you know that my car is still at your loft!"

"So couldn't you just take another car?" 

Obviously, Derek is still sleeping.

"Like what, the  _Sheriff's_?" 

Derek gives a cute combination between a huff and a growl before uncrossing his arms and coming closer.

"You could've woken me up."

I snort. "Yeah, haven't you heard of letting sleeping dogs lie?" 

I burst out laughing when he gives me a nudge and I fly a few steps back. 

"That's not what it - " 

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Now shut up and come over here. I'm not carting all this inside by myself."

Derek huffs, rolls his eyes and obliges.

 

"I should've let you do it by yourself, since you drove my car without consulting me first." he grumps as we bring the last of the shopping bags into the kitchen.

"I think you know you wouldn't be eating those Stilinski chocolate chip pancakes you love so much otherwise!" I wink at him, as I start sorting the products out. 

"Besides, don't you mean since I 'drove your car'?" Derek wouldn't let me drive his car, no matter how much I pout. Only once he let me, and he spent the whole drive with his arms tight on his chest, eyes narrowed and looking like he'd lunge over to take the control of the wheel at any second. 

Derek huffs as he hands me three cartons of milk.

"Exactly."

 

Soon enough the kitchen is filled with the smell of a dozen sausages that are sizzling in a pan and which Derek's looking after, while I make the pancakes, having already made the waffles. After he puts the sausages on a big plate, Derek starts on the omlettes while I start chopping various vegetables that are nutritious and healthy for everyone, not only my dad, no matter what wolfy persons say!

After the last of the food is placed on the table, the others start trickling in. First a bouncy, chirpy Laura followed by Tyler who if obviously not a morning person,  by the sullen glare he shoots his sister as he drops in a chair. Lastly, my dad ambles out of his room and into the kitchen, probably following his nose. 

"Oh my God, Stiles! This looks delicious!" Laura says excitedly, already piling waffles on her plate. Derek clears his throat and points at the sausages and omlette, ignoring his sister's 'who's the older sibling here, dammit!'.

I crack up. "Look dad, it looks I'm not the only one prone to nagging my family members to eat healthy!"

He grumbles as he piles his plate, but adding a serving of vegetables at my glare. He and Laura share a look.

"It's not that, it's just that Laura will become a slobbery rage monster in a few hours if she only eats waffles at breakfast. We have to make sure she eats well, otherwise she'll eat us by lunch." 

My dad and I chuckle at Taylor.

"Stiles, you're an amazing cook!"

Derek 'glares' at Laura. "It wasn't just Stiles cooking!"

"Yeah, I know, but I can smell that Stiles did these waffles, and I love 'em!" Derek rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

Dad looks dumbfounded. "You can smell who cooked what?"

Taylor answers for Laura, looking disgustingly at her as she fills her mouth to the brim by taking a huge bite out of a waffle, before shoving a strawberry dipped in cream along with it in her mouth.

"Yeah, their scent lingers on the food. It's why we're so picky about who's cooking for us. We can..smell..dirty hands."

My dad and I make equal disgusted faces and Derek groans, shaking his head again.

"Seriously, Tay?"

His brother just smiles, shrugging as he bites into a sausage.

Suddenly Laura swallows and points at Derek.

"What's that on your chest, Derbear?"

Derek stops with the fork halfway to his mouth and smiles frighteningly at me. What the hell.

"That is Stiles' drool." 

My face is tomato red in ten seconds flat as Laura bellows with laughter, followed closely by Taylor. I can barely hear my dad's 'aw crap' as he wipes his face, clearly regretting everything. Derek just smiles smugly and challenging at me.

This is for driving his car, I'm sure. If that's the way he wants to play it, I'm game. 

I glare pointedly at him, to inform him that this isn't over.

 

After we finish, Laura insists on washing the dishes, handing them to Taylor to dry them. I make Derek get some empty containers from the cupboard and I start to pile all of the leftovers inside. Derek starts to take the full ones to the fridge but I stop him.

He stares at me, confused.

"We're taking them to your loft. I'm sure your parents, little sister and grandma are famished, too."

Derek gives me the most brilliant of smiles and I duck my head, so that he won't see my stupid blush. Seriously, this guy's smile.

Behind me, Laura giggles softly. 

My dad pats me on the back. "That's good thinking, kiddo. I have to go to work, though.  I have to take a double shift since I missed yesterday. You kids take care."

We all chorus our goodbyes.

Soon we're finished and after Derek and I get dressed and I make sure to take my laptop while the other carry the containers of food, we go to the loft. 

 

                                                                                      

 

Talia and Aaron greet us warmly when we arrive, and while the others take the food to the kitchen, I place my laptop on the coffee table and sit on the couch. No sooner had my butt settled on the couch that I find myself with a little bundle in my lap.

My face breaks involuntarily into a smile.

"Hey there, little cutie" Little Skylar beams, her mouth sporting only four visible teeth, two large upper ones and two smaller bottom ones.

"You look like a little bunny, just like your big brother, Der." 

There's laughter in the kitchen at my remark, no doubt, and Talia chuckles next to me. I didn't even notice her. My face reddens as I look at her.

"I take it you are responsible for our breakfast, Stiles." 

"Oh, uhh..Derek helped!"

"Oh now you acknowledge my help?!" Derek grumps as him, Laura, Taylor and Aaron come bearing plates from the kitchen. Shooting him a quick smile, I get up from the couch so that someone else can sit and have breakfast.

Talia reaches for Skylar, and I shake my head.

"I can feed her, if you don't mind? That way you can eat too!"

She smiles at me, and  _Jesus_ , I can't believe I'm saying this but I can see where Derek got his killer smile. 

"Thank you, Stiles. You're a sweetheart."

The others all laugh at my reddening face, even Derek.

Soon enough the older Hales are eating while Laura, Derek and Taylor are conversing on the floor next to me. I'm too focused on the adorable three year old in my lap to hear what they're talking about. Skylar is an amazingly clean eater, for a three year old. She doesn't grab at the plate, placed on my left knee, and waits  patiently, perched on my right thigh for me too feed her. I'm enamoured with her, and by the way she beams at me in between bites I think she likes me too. It hurts my heart to think that this sweet, innocent baby was burned to death at the hands of that monster. It makes my blood boil, and my protective instincts go through the roof.

Nothing bad will ever happen to little Skylar again, or any of the other Hales, for that matter. I'll make sure of that.

"I spoke with Peter earlier." Talia announces as she finishes her breakfast. 

"He visited us early in the morning. He wants to spend some time alone with Sheila and Phillip. So Aaron and I decided to postpone a pack conference for a few days, but not too long. We need to put order into things."  

That sounds reasonable. The others nod too. 

Talia looks at me. "Meanwhile, Stiles, I would like to talk to your father about the documents of our house."

"He's pulling a double shift today, meaning he will be home tomorrow morning. But I or Derek can drive you to the station, if you want to. But I would like to mention that there is no more trouble with the documents, since the ritual erased everyone's memories. That means there's no evidence of your.." I hesitate here, "death. The only thing, now, is taking it down and rebuilding it."

Talia smiles approvingly at this and nods at me.

"Wonderful, then."

The rest of the day goes on like this, me mostly playing with little Sky, after informing Laura and Taylor that I brought my laptop specifically so that they could do some online shopping for clothes and other necessities. Derek offered them his debit card until the other Hales sort out their finance. Derek sits next to his mom and dad, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying and a few times laughing and crying at the same time. I'm so happy to have given him this. 

Charlotte narrows her eyes at my laptop.

"Laura, can that contraption buy me some cigarettes?"

The loft echoes with laughter.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
